


Candy Corn Operation

by eds_spaghets



Series: Moments when Richie Tozier felt like there was hope [2]
Category: IT (2017), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Boarding School, Halloween, Losers club - Freeform, M/M, That's it, changing schools, depressed Richie, fall - Freeform, i like to think that reddie is always present, lonely richie, movie marathon, pumpkins and hot chocolate, some moments make him truly happy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-01
Updated: 2018-11-01
Packaged: 2019-08-14 05:32:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16486790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eds_spaghets/pseuds/eds_spaghets
Summary: When Richie’s parents transferred him into a boarding school, he thought the world was about to end.Or: The Losers abduct Richie from school for Halloween





	Candy Corn Operation

**Author's Note:**

> These little one shots are in no way related to each other, just randomly thoughts I get  
> Hope you enjoy! :)

When Richie’s parents transferred him into a boarding school, he thought the world was about to end.

One of the worst parts, besides the whole thing, was the fact that school only allowed students to go home on the weekends.  
This meant many things: not having to deal with his parents so much, not seeing his friends most of the time, no studying in the weekends (because they were meant for Losers’ quality time),

and it meant that Richie’s mental stability was running low.

Most of his afternoons were spent in the crowded dorms, or the crowded library, with his only true company being his crowded mind, as per say. He was floating in anxiousness and self-consciousness.

Just three months ago, in Derry’s high school, Richie realised, although now he knows it wasn’t true, that he was finally allowing himself to feel okay in school ground. There was _no one_ , no bully, no student, no teacher or school worker that made him feel the way he did when he was younger.  
Judged, watched, like anyone who laid eyes on him was looking in disappointment or pity.

Right then? He thought it was all over, there was no bully that made him afraid or itchy. There was no student who he thought was making fun of him just by passing through them on the hallways, maybe because of his odd clothes, or odd glasses, or odd face, for fuck’s sake.  
There was no teacher who had the power over him to leave Richie feeling like he failed yet another grown up who put faith on his future.

Right then, with the Losers by his side, Richie was finally letting go of a heavy ton of weight from his head and chest. Where it usually hurts.

But look what it took.  
It took a very nice day to get home and have both your parents waiting for you for the first time since the year started, perhaps, only for them to tell you they were tired of having a nuisance to take care of and deciding that it was better if you just went somewhere else.

Well, they didn’t say that, but Richie knows that’s what they truly think.  
But it’s fine, it’s not like he cares.

Only that he does, _and a lot_. Because right now nothing’s the same.

He walks the corridors with his head down, even if there’s no chance that someone will make fun of him for his clothes this time, because everyone wears the school uniform. He stays quiet in classes and hasn’t said a joke ever since he arrived. Because there’s nothing funny about this, and there’s no one to laugh with him.

 _“Having any good chucks lately?”_ That’s what he used to say all the time. If he had to answer himself right now…

_No, no chucks at all._

He did make ‘friends’ with a couple other students. Brother and sister, perfect for him to hang around without thinking he was third wheeling. But he still decided to be by himself most of the time, just so that they don’t get sick of him too quickly. Like his parents did.

But life goes on, and Richie has grown to learn some things. Things such as the doorman’s shifts, or the suspicious places where there are holes in the fences of the school perimeter. He’s learnt his way to sneak out when he has a schedule gap, and that’s how he’s by the Derry’s high school gate two times a week, waiting for the lunch break to come so that he can see the most important people in his life.  
He doesn’t even bother with the stupid uniform anymore, Stan will probably tease him forever for the high socks with formal shorts that make him look like a boy’s scout. But all of that is welcomed, he just needs to hear their voices and he will instantly be okay.

Richie’s the one who does the visiting because it’s the logical thing to do. He is only one, they are six. Besides, he’s good at sneaking out of a building that rules against it, and the others wouldn’t even be able to step foot into the school surface without having a bunch of dweebs calling them out to their principal or something.

Today, however, Richie feels even worse.

Today is Halloween, and he is trapped in this dumper of a school. There is no way of getting out today, otherwise he’ll get in trouble for skipping classes and he doesn’t need a reason to be caught up in detention for the weekend. So, he patiently goes through his morning lessons while wishing he could be anywhere but here, really.

When lunch comes around, he leaves the classroom along with 27 other students and drags his feet through the hallways while feeling his stomach’s protests of hunger.

There was a rumour floating around students that the canteen serves holiday themed desserts. So maybe he’ll have some kind of pumpkin flavoured pudding today. Is that even a th-  
His attention is caught in the middle of crowd. He snaps his head back to that same exact place, searching every single face but finding no one in particular.

There’s a feeling of uncertainty that keeps him company, but Richie partly lets it go and resumes his way to the canteen.

When the line for lunch allows him to, he tries to take a look at the dessert station and sees none other than cookies. Carved pumpkin cookies, ghost cookies, ones that resemble witches’ hats too. And well, he’s certainly not complaining when he shoves four of them into his pocket.

The woman behind the enormous food trays gives him an odd look, but fortunately, Richie is good at making sweet ladies like him.

The thought of Eddie’s mom comes to his mind and he has an urge to laugh, but pushes it down into nothing. Instead, he gives the woman, Julie, a quick smile and an innocent shoulder shrug. Amused, she smiles back and fills his plate of pea rice and chicken a little bit more.

If the others were here, he would have no problems in announcing, with a loud voice, that he would marry this woman someday.

He retreats to his seat that to this day he hopes wasn’t someone else’s and tries to eat as fast as he can. Richie does it so that he can enjoy the school ground without a catastrophic number of students there.

He finishes his food with an hour of lunch to spare, so he makes his way outside while munching on the cookies. The icing is dry ans they’re pretty average, so he assumes they’re store bought.

While walking along the corridors and tapping a hand to the lockered walls, Richie is struck by the same target that caughts his attention. Looking ahead, he sees a smaller figure rounding the end of the hallway, same uniform as his. The back of his head seems way too familiar after years of watching one boy carefully whenever he can.

His heart starts thumping faster as Richie watches the body disappear around the corner. Immediately acting, Richie strides down the almost empty hallway.

For a moment, the neiboult house and the sickly Eddie come to his mind, the one that lured him into that awful room. The one that’s probably luring him right now, maybe somewhere where no one could witness a death.

All Richie can hear is his own heartbeat as he finally curves the last row of lockers. He’s about to start running when suddenly there’s a body colliding with his with enough strenght to send him flying backwards. He grasps the other person’s shoulders just in time to prevent both of them from falling.

“What the actual fuck?” That's what he says.

“Where the hell were you?” That's what the other person asks.

In front of him, wearing the same uniform, is Eddie. The clothes look loose on him. But that is not something he should be worried about right now.

But he’s Richie, so…

“You’re wearing uniform.”

Eddie’s apprehensive face turns into a blank one.

“You do realise that I’m not even supposed to be here, and all you notice is that I’m wearing these stupid clothes?”

Richie looks at him funny, and for a moment, Eddie is afraid that he might have said something he shouldn’t. “I’m- I didn’t mean… to offend you, I-” In a moment of despair, he grips the front part of his hair and exhales soundly, shutting his eyes close in the process. “Today is being so fucking wicked- Look, the clothes are okay, but can we please get out of here?”

In a matter of seconds, Eddie grabs Richie by the forearm and starts guiding him through the school, not even giving him a chance to answer.

Richie, being himself, stares at the way Eddie’s ass moves underneath the beige pants. Yes, pants, that’s the ‘cold-weather-option’. Other than that, he allows himself to be dragged to the nearest exit.

Today is being fucking wicked, alright.

Not only when Eddie starts talking in a spiral of energy and worry, Richie realises he must have said it out loud.

“We called it Spooky Mode Undercover. I told them it was awful, I mean who even thinks it’s acceptable to give such a big name to a secret mission where we’re supposed to be abducting you from this hell hole? My first suggestion, which I still think is way better, was Candy Corn Operation. You know what they told me? I’ll tell you! We’re too old for candy corn! Who the fuck is too old for candy corn?! No wonder we’re called Losers-

“Candy corn operation? That’s the same length as Spooky Mode Undercover, Eds.” They made it past one of the back doors, the cold October air hitting their exposed skin.

Eddie stopped in his tracks and stared off ahead of him, the door closed behind them with a loud noise.  “Well, damn it.”

And just like that, he sprinted off to their right, resuming his story. “Today’s Halloween-

“The hole in the fence was the other way-” He was cut off from speaking when Eddie turned around, almost colliding with Richie, and started walking, as purposefully as before, in the opposite direction.

“So, today’s Halloween and we wanted to spend it with you. I told them that this was a bad idea and that we couldn’t be missing classes, neither can you. But now I’m here, because everyone said they had a great plan and all. **_I was the plan!_** They made me go through the stupid hole with Bev and she dragged me to the locker rooms on your gym! Gym, Richie! I thought it would smell less like a dumper since this is a private school, _where the hell did I get this idea from, anyway?_ Well, it stinks just as much and if that wasn’t all, she locked us both in there and made me steal someone’s clothes. _Someone else’s clothes!_ Do you have any idea how much I’m suffering right now? No, of course you don’t, cause you probably love this plan as much as the others!”

 Richie was speechless, and that was saying much. The cookies in his left pocket came to his mind and, using his free hand, he took one out and put it in front of Eddie’s face while they got closer and closer to the hidden exit. “Cookie?”

Eddie eyed it, slightly out of breath and cross eyed from staring so close. “Sure, thanks.”

They were fast approaching their destination, the other Losers already visible from where they’re standing, when Eddie seems to realise something and proceeds to talk with a mouthful, spilling crumbs everywhere. “Wait! I can’t leave with some other guy’s clothes!”

“I’m sure that this guy, whoever he was, is already filling out an assault report with the principal. You really shouldn’t go back to kindly return it, Spaghetti.”

“Are you kidding me? I can’t stay in this filthy thing a second more!”

“We’ll gladly watch you strip, then.” Eddie was surprised that it wasn’t Richie who said it, but Bev, who was on the other side along with the four remaining boys.

Richie’s heart instantly flooded with affection for the group in front of him. Therapy? No, he doesn’t need that. He needs home, and that’s exactly what all of them are to Richie.  
He watched as Eddie crawled through the gap while blaming everyone for making him go through the school halls alone.

Dazed and happier, he stood there like an idiot, fence between them.

“Richie, baby, you’re drooling.” He snapped his neck to look at Beverly, who as smugly smirking at him.

Stan, who had enough of these reencounter feelings, cut Eddie off in the middle of his bickering.  

“This is very emotional and all, but think of how better it would be if we were in Bill’s living room and not hiding in the middle of bushes waiting for someone to see you sneaking out.”

Bill laughed. “Ye-yeah, that s-sounds nicer.”

When Richie stepped to the other side, Ben hugged him in a crushing force, Mike put an arm over his shoulder and Bev kissed his cheek. Bill said “We’ve missed you.” with a tender smile while Stan replied “Speak for yourself.” But then he offered a smug smirk, and Richie knew it was the best kind of affection he could get from Stan. So he takes it, grateful.

There are some tears threatening to fall at any given moment. They had come for him.

They came to him.

And for the first time in a while, Richie wanted to smile.

 

-

 

“So… we’re too old for trick or treating, but we’re not too old for this?” Richie was standing in the middle of Bill’s backyard, where seven medium sized pumpkins were laying on the grass.

“Pumpkin carving is great! What’s your point?” Mike asks while already sitting down on the cold ground.

“We’re not puh-pumpkin carving.” Bill states as he exits through the door that connects the kitchen to the backyard.

“We’re not?” Both Richie and Eddie, who already took his time to change into normal clothes, ask in unison.

Bill grins smugly and keeps silent. All of them stare, confused, at him as if waiting for an explanation. The silence was broken when a loud gasp was heard through the backyard. All heads snapped to the sound, only to find Ben covered in pumpkin seeds and guts.

Mike rolled on his side to laugh freely. He had successfully carved an opening in his pumpkin, taking out some of its insides to hit an unfortunate target with them.

“Pumpkin fight!” Bev screamed amused. Her words had an impact on the boys. All of a sudden, everyone was stumbling to get their own pumpkin and messily carve them open. Richie and Stan aimed for the same one, which resulted in a shoulder to shoulder fight until Stan was pushed to the ground and Richie ran away with the orange fruit and a carving utensil.

“Don’t run with knives on your hand, Richie! For fucks’ sake!” Richie ignored Eddie’s commands until he was behind a bush, protected from being hit for the moment.

Meanwhile, Mike had scooped out every pumpkin’s bits off of Ben’s hair so he could keep it for future victims.

Needless to say, thing got messy pretty quickly, plus slippery. Their ammo was pretty low, so besides hitting others with the slimy substance, they also had to pick it up from each other’s clothes, shoes, hairs and the ground itself.  
Turns out wearing glasses wasn’t really helpful. Richie ended up half blind either way, for he had to remove them near the beginning after Stan took revenge on him for getting pushed. How Stan was actually playing along with getting dirty was still a mystery to him, and probably everyone else, but he wasn’t complaining when he got to watch Bev jump at him towards the ground. Both had ended up spitting out seeds.

 

-

 

So, keeping the fight for first plan wasn’t the smartest idea. That’s what all of they realise while laying in the ground, exhausted of running around. Their clothes are stained and humid, their hairs… a mess.

“Bill, buddy, I don’t see other option besides you lending us some clothes.” Mike states, slightly out of breath.

With a heavy sigh, Bill gets up to his feet and starts walking towards the kitchen door. “E-Eddie, you t-take Georgie’s, right?”

Richie gave away a light-hearted laugh while Bill was hit in the back of the head for the last time.

 

A few ruined towels later and 7 cups of hot chocolate warming cold hands, they found themselves on Bill’s attic.

“My muh-mom will kill me when she ss-sees the laundry basket.”

With a groan, Richie draped a hand over his face. “Wait until I have to go back to that prison, I’ll be in detention for two weekends in a row.”

“And when my mom finds out I skipped school. Oh god…” Eddie spoke this time, worry in his voice.

“ _Yeah, yeah,_ we’re all screwed. But we’re all together right now, and we need to enjoy that and worry later.”

“Bev’s right…” Ben murmured after a small silence. Richie chuckled to himself, because, honestly, when isn’t Bev right?

They stayed quiet after this, each of them submerged in their own conflicted thoughts. Bill was still standing up, his previous task to set up the old TV his parents keep up here in the attic was forgotten momentarily. The others were dispersed between a pull-out couch that was able to fit 3 (though sometimes they all squeezed to sit on it), a smaller armchair, where Mike and Stan were squished together, and two bean bag chairs that Richie claimed for Eddie and him.

To break the saddening mood that was taking over them, Bill put the steamy cup down on the floor near his feet and clapped his hand together loudly. “Well, a-any movie suggestions?”

While a discussion took place, Richie stood quiet. After all, he had been quieter than usual ever since the change of schools, but right now the reasons were others. He didn’t want this day to end, didn’t want to go back and have to deal with reality. This, too, was real, but it was a smaller part of his life, while school became a bigger one that took away his will to laugh. Here, among family, Richie decided to tune out their arguments over which movie was best and, instead, soak in the feeling of being wanted. Being part of something.

That’s kind of the point, right?  
To belong somewhere.

He still remembers when, back in the end of middle school, the Losers decided to use the space of the Denbrough’s attic to create this tiny corner. The environment was cosy, filled with infinite memories of all the afternoons and nights spent in here.

Rainy day? Movie marathon. School break? Movie marathon. Literally any time they don’t know what to do? Movies.

And it was mostly here that they settled to watch them.

The TV belonged to Bill’s parents, it was old, but still functional. It was on top of a small chest of drawers that Stan’s parents were planning on throwing away, the boy quickly gave it a new life by bringing it here. It’s where they keep all the movies the group collectively brought. The couch was Bill’s too. It served as a guest bed from time to time, but Mr. and Mrs. Denbrough have long ended the family invitations, so it provided better use to the kids anyway.

As for the armchair, it was owned by Mike’s grandma. It was stored away in the barn of Mike’s farm, along with many other old belongings, such as the vinyl player and the lamps they also picked up for the space. The lightbulbs were bought with everyone’s shared allowances, and the bean bags were brought in from both Bev and Ben’s houses.

The couch was diagonally situated to the tv, near it were the beanbags, standing in the middle, and on the other side was the armchair.

It wasn’t perfect, but fuck it if they didn’t think so.

 

A Nightmare on Elm Street had been playing for 23 minutes, said the timer on the screen. All of them were munching on candies that Bill got his parents to buy so he could give them to trick or treaters. But he took all of them upstarts, already having ignored the four times that someone rang the bell to ask for them.

Richie’s hot chocolate had been finished by the time Bill pressed play, the mug forgotten on the floor beside his seat. On the other hand, Eddie’s cup was still mostly full, and his eyes on the screen seemed a bit lost.  
Something is wrong. That’s one of the things Richie’s good at figuring out.  
How to act upon it… not so good.

“Hey, there’s some… stuff, here…” Carefully, he reached out a hand to Eddie’s head. The other boy leans away slightly, expecting Richie to mess up his hair. Instead, he picks up a little pumpkin string and shoves it closely to Eddie’s face. _“Wanna have a lil seasoning with ya hot chocolate, Suhr?”_

Eddie fully leans his head away while rolling his eyes. With the hand that’s not holding the mug, he swats Richie’s wrist away and murmurs, as not to bother the rest of his friends watching the movie. “Don’t do that, Rich.”

There’s a million Richie-ways he could have answered that, instead, since he wasn’t being himself a lot anyway, he admitted: “Just trynna cheer you up, Eds.”

Undoubtfully, Eddie was taken aback by the sincerity of it. At a loss of words from his part, Richie kept talking.

“What’s going on that head of yours?” His words were mere whispers, even though his friends were most likely hearing their conversation anyway.

Eddie shrugged in response, turned his head to face the screen again. The bell downstairs rang once again. Everyone ignored it.

“It’s just…” He struggled to find words, eyes never leaving the screen. The movie had been playing for 25 minutes. “I don’t like it…” He stated simply.

Now, Richie liked to believe he was at least smart, but not even Ben would know what the fuck Eddie’s talking about.

“Change, that is.” Eddie added finally.

_Oh._

And Richie understood. How couldn’t he?

Eddie didn’t like change. Didn’t like the fact that the Losers were missing a voice most days, or that their classes had another vague chair. Their study meets consisted of more studying than joking around, and their lunch table had less sugar in it.  
Eddie didn’t like that, in the morning, he had to say five greetings instead of six, and that he received one minus greeting in return. He didn’t like it that there were less reasons to laugh about, and that he had more glass cleaning spray in his fannypack, because now it wasn’t needed.  
He didn’t like that his classes got quieter, and that gym was less fun. Or that his mother smiled more at the dinner table and that he had no one waiting for him in the front of his house in the morning.

Richie didn’t like it, either.

“I know.” That’s what he said, and Eddie shot him a small smile in return. “C’mhere.” Richie stage-whispered while making grabby hands at Eddie, who was suddenly apprehensive at whatever idiocy was about to happen.

Richie turned sideways in his seat and fisted his hands in Eddie’s bean bag, tugging it towards him in a swift motion. Eddie shrieked when his seat was almost taken away from underneath his body and the sudden movement was enough to make him spill hot chocolate, now warm, all over himself. And the floor.

_“Fuck! Richie!”_

“Oh god! I’m so fucking sorry, Eds!” He managed to squeak out, but immediately after he cracked up in laughs. Everyone was already looking at the mess and blaming him for being careless, so whatever.

“Are you ff-for real, Rich?” Bill got up with a frown. “I a-almost don’t have any clothes l-left!”  But there was not enough air in Richie’s lungs for him to answer, so he tossed his head back in the bean bag, hitting it on the floor with a loud **_thud_**.

“ _Motherfucker, this fucking floor. Shit.”_ His laughs died down abruptly, hands gripping his head until his knuckles turned white.

Well, _Richie’s_ laughs died down, but everyone else suddenly found it way too funny, besides Eddie, who was still pissed off and trying to restrain his needs to pour the rest of his beverage over Richie’s lap.

Saturated of the whole laundry issue, Bill turned to Eddie with a pointed finger. “You’re getting G-Georgie’s clothes, d-don’t care!”

Snapping out of his trance, Eddie shot up to his feet and started following Bill’s steps towards the staircase.

“Bill, don’t you _fucking dare_ put me in twelve years old’ pyjamas!”

In the middle of his friends’ chuckles, Richie sat there, still grasping his head dramatically. He exhaled loudly.

At least some things never change.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Sometimes in my life I am reminded that there is hope, and those moments make me want to write.  
> If I get more of these moments I will write them from Richie’s ‘point of view’.
> 
> Feel free to tell me what you think! It's very much appreciated :)


End file.
